on dirty dudes and bicycles

12/10/2019

Hello world,

So this morning I decided to go for a walk but faced the dilemma of no clean breathable 🧦. That is a complete womp-womp in my 📖 for 🚶 imho, especially in this hoax-worthy weather we’ve been having, but I really needed that walk, so in order to still make it happen captain I went in my USC 🐊’s that I inherited from a friend that have been to Bowel Movement (🔥🐽) a couple times.

BP$A: Long walques in krocks are possible, however one probably shouldn’t make a habit of it. Not with these hips anyway.

Anyhoodiddlyroni, as I was walking down the main drag in my cracks, I noticed a dirty-looking dude on a fixie (kinda like a bicycle version of a 🧚‍♀️) headed the opposite direction, coming at me.

At that moment, like any normal-ass white Amerikan, my superego and cultural conditioning sent me a joint memo to be wary of this guy (and he wasn’t even black or brown, imagine that!), so I tensed up a bit and started to feel a twinge of that fight or flight feeling or whatever.

As he drew closer, similar to many normal-ass situations of two people passing each other on the street, I noticed that this dude was just heading in the opposite direction like a normal-ass dirty dude on a bicycle and couldn’t give a rat’s chit about me.

Or so I thot.

As he pA$$ed (me, not gas 💨), the dirty-ass bicycle guy glanced at me, gave a curt lil nod beneath his snapback (like a dad hat but flat-brimmed and arguably doper), and said, “Yawryebreh?”

It took me about 5-7 seconds to decipher the meaning of his question, for I can’t imagine why it would be anyone’s business to find out if I was rye bread, especially a total stranger. I’m not the biggest fan of that strain of bread either. I mean, I’ll eat it, but c’mon! Sourdough, French Roll, Ciabatta, Bro!

Anyway, it took my smart-ass brain that is excellent at cognition 5-7 seconds to realize that he was asking, “are you alright, you fine-ass, young-looking gentleman?”

By the time I realized what he said, tho, he was pretty much out of earshot, so I turned around abruptly in my CIROCs, ran a few steps toward him, realized that probably looked really goofy (what with me and my pink-ass hair, Thai harem pants, and playa-scarred red Crocs n awl), so I stopped running after him and instead yelled, “YA I’M GOOD MAN, THANKS!”

Since I converted back to a unicorn doo (🦄💩) I’ve noticed that weird people are a lot more comfortable engaging with me again and I love it.

Love,

Adonis